Finding Sunshine
by MannyZanders
Summary: John Zacchara had found true happiness, and the love of his life. Then, she disappeared without a trace - he's determined to find her. But can he survive the truth? AU - JoMax


_A/N – Totally AU. No mob in this, will probably be a short series – only one or two more chapters._

"Hey little brother! You actually picked up; I was beginning to think you were avoiding me."

John Zacchara smiled fondly. He'd been so consumed with closing the latest deal for MZ Holdings that other than his attorneys and top executives, he'd barely spoken to anyone - let alone his sister, in the past three weeks. He was glad now that he'd picked up when his cell had vibrated, he'd thought about ignoring it. But he couldn't take the risk that it could be from one of his investigators with news. It hadn't been, but hearing from his sister always helped.

"Hey Claudia – you know how crazy things have been. I'm glad you're back, I've missed you. So tell me, how was Italy?"

"The same…beautiful, relaxing – the crops are going to produce our best vintage yet. The De Luca's laughed their ass off at my Italian, I think I'll stick to speaking Spanish."

John laughed. "That might be a good idea, your Italian sucks."

"Hey, we can't all be Mr. Harvard Business School that speaks four languages little brother. You got the education and I got Aunt Rosa in Costa de la Luz, remember?"

"How can I forget? You always were the lucky one. You got Spain and Aunt Rosa, I got Manhattan and Dad."

Claudia snickered. "True, I guess I was luckier than you with that. At least the old man's six feet under now where he belongs. Hey, don't spend all night at the office again. Meet me for dinner and I'll catch you up on Italy, but first tell me, how goes the search?"

He sighed. He didn't want to talk about that. But he knew his sister; she wouldn't give up without some sort of answer. Twisting in his chair, he faced away from his desk and stared out the massive windows that provided the backdrop to his office. He propped a long leg against the window frame and rubbed the back of his neck wearily.

"The same, no leads."

"Oh John, I'm sorry. I was really hoping Durant's latest lead would pan out."

He grimaced. She was sincere and he knew it. But in a few months time, he would be looking at a year since he'd begun searching. Not that it mattered really, even if his team of investigators never found anything – he wouldn't stop looking, ever.

"Yeah, well. I never thought it would be easy." His sister made a non-committal noise. He had a feeling she probably thought it was a little crazy, to keep pouring money into this search. But he also knew, she'd never say it out loud; she knew how important it was to him. She was the only one who knew the whole story. Not even his army of investigators knew the real reason he was so desperately searching for Mariah.

He shook off the thought before the memories and regret could weigh him down too heavily. "I do have good news though."

"Yeah – what's that, you finally get those bastards at Quartermaine to close the deal?"

"Signed, sealed and delivered as of last night." He grinned.

His sister's delighted laughter rang in his ear. "I knew you could do it little brother!" she chuckled softly. "Damn, I wish I'd been there to see the old coot's face when he realized you had him backed against the wall."

"It was a sight to see alright." He agreed with a dry chuckle of his own. "I almost felt sorry for his grandson, the old man turned so red I thought he was going to drop from a heart attack right then and there."

"You mean, he didn't? Damn, then I do feel sorry for A.J."

"A.J., huh?" He grinned in amusement, the teasing lilt to his voice carrying over the phone. "Three months ago, it was _that arrogant prick_ and now it's A.J.?" He rose from his chair and leaned a shoulder against the window. "Ah, all those international calls he was constantly making during breaks in the negotiations the past few weeks suddenly make sense."

"Oh, shut it John."

"I don't know Claudia, a Quartermaine?" He teased with a smirk, "I think I may have to start worrying about your judgment. Didn't you tell me that the Quartermaines represent all that is fucked up with being born rich in this country?"

Her reply was cut off by the buzzing of his intercom.

"Hold on Claudia." He shifted from the window and pressed the blinking button on his desk. "Yes, Hannah?"

"Sir, I apologize for disturbing you." The brisk efficient tones of his executive assistant carried over.

"Its fine Hannah, I know you wouldn't unless it was important. What is it?"

"Not a what, sir – a who."

He frowned in confusion. That was unusually cryptic for her. Cool, unflappable and almost disturbingly skilled at her job, his assistant very seldom wasted words by being vague. He heard his sister chuckle in his ear as she listened in from her end.

"Okay Hannah, then _who_ is it?"

"Her name is Georgie Jones and she says it's extremely important."

John furrowed his brow and sorted through his memories but came up blank. "I don't know anyone by that name, Hannah and my schedule isn't clear for new appointments for the next five weeks."

"Actually Mr. Zacchara, you're booked for the next seven weeks." She sighed, the irritation clearly conveyed in the sound. "And I've already told her that. Several times, in fact but she refuses to leave until she sees you."

He was surprised to hear the exasperation in her voice. Getting rid of unwanted visitors was not an unusual part of her job. She typically handled it so routinely and gracefully though that he was rarely aware of them until after the fact.

"Hannah, tell her to make an appointment like everyone else or to leave a message with you and you'll take care of it."

"Yes sir, I already did that."

"Uh-oh little brother, sounds like one of your admirers is stalking you again." Claudia snickered into the phone. For some reason, the amount of bimbos and stalkers he'd acquired in the past few months since their father died, tickled her endlessly. Or maybe it was just watching him turn away every ridiculous female that batted her eyelashes at him. She knew as well as he did that not one of them stood a chance, but she got a kick out of watching them make fools of themselves. And she never missed a chance to tease him mercilessly about it.

He huffed into his cell in irritation. "Great, just what I need."

"Sir?"

"Sorry Hannah, I was talking to Claudia."

"Oh. Sir, about your visitor…"

"Hannah – if she's giving you that much trouble, just ring security and have her escorted out of the building."

There was a small hesitation from the other end, then a small shuffling sound. Her voice dropped an octave and was slightly muffled as though she had her hand over her mouthpiece. "That had actually been my first impulse. But, I really think that you should see her – even for just a few minutes, she's seems really…desperate."

He could hear the shuffling again, her voice dropping until she was practically whispering into the phone. "Sir? She claims that you'll never forgive yourself if you don't hear her out - that it's a matter of life and death."

"And you believe her?"

The astonishment was clear in his voice. Ever since he'd been named in that stupid article on _Most Desirable Billionaire Bachelors_ a few weeks ago, every aspect of his life including his office; had been filled with ruthless gold diggers. Hannah had become an expert at getting rid of them. So why was this one throwing her off?

"Not at first, no." She hesitated and something in her tone had his back straightening. Her instincts were one of the reasons she was paid so outrageously well.

"She's been here every day for the past four days, refusing to leave until she sees you. She took a phone call about an hour ago; whatever it was about must have been really bad. She was almost hysterical Mr. Zacchara, I got her cleaned up and calmed down, but I really think you should talk to her before she leaves. But if you don't want to, she did say that if you didn't agree to talk to her by five, she wouldn't attempt to contact you again."

John glanced down at his watch, it was nearly five now. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and grunted in frustration. "Claudia, what do you think?"

"I think that this is a damn sight better than my telenovelas. What'd you do little brother, knock up some trust fund brat?"

He stiffened, his jaw tightening at her words. She sighed into the silence. "Shit. I'm sorry John."

"I know, don't worry about it. I'm just…"

"I know. You don't have to tell me, there's not a chance in hell of that happening." Another sigh. "John, you don't need this drama right now. Just tell Hannah to get rid of her. Then get your ass out of the damn office and come over here for dinner, I want to catch up."

He smiled. "You got it." Pausing to grab his keys, he scooped up a pile of discarded files from his desk and prepared to leave via his private entrance. "Hannah, call security and have her escorted out. I'm taking off for the day."

"Sir? She said if you tried to blow her off, I should give you a message. And that if you still refused to see her, it would be your last chance and you'd never have anyone to blame but yourself."

Claudia's laughter rang in his ear. "What'd I tell you – better than a soap opera. What's the message?"

"What's the message Hannah?" He leaned a hip against the corner of his desk. One thing about his life, it was never dull.

"I don't really understand it but she said you would and that if you didn't or didn't care, then you could go to hell and stay there."

He rolled his eyes, women tried this cryptic shit all the time to try and get his attention. They always failed. But what the hell, at the very least it would give he and Claudia something to laugh about over dinner. "Okay, let's hear it."

"She said to tell you _the sunshine is always brighter in Texas."_

His breath caught in his throat. "_Madre de Dios!" _His sister whispered in his ear. He couldn't respond, couldn't speak. Dear god, after all this time – could it really happen like this? Could she have just dropped from the sky and shown up at his office? Could the fates really have been so kind to him just this once? But Georgie – Georgie Jones? It was possible she'd been using a fake name; it would certainly explain why his investigators had been unable to find a Mariah Cummings anywhere.

"Sir?"

"John?"

He shook his head and realized that both his sister and his assistant had been trying to get his attention for several moments. Shock had frozen him in place, the blood rushing to his head drowning out everything but the whispered plea in his head. "_Please, please be her."_

"Send her in." He shoved his keys in his pocket and tossed down the files. He ran a hand through his hair and realized with a start that he was trembling. He smiled ruefully; she'd always had that effect on him.

"Never mind sir, she's already left."

"What? No!" He was already flinging open his door, his eyes searching urgently. The waiting room was empty. He spun on his heel, his wild gaze landing on his assistant. "Hannah, where'd she go?"

Her eyes widened slightly at the desperation in his voice, "She got another phone call about ten minutes ago. I heard her saying something about a flight home. I'm sorry sir, I only had my back turned for a few minutes – she must've slipped out while I was talking."

"John." His sister's voice rang in his ear, her tone urgent. "John, go after her. What if it's her, John?"

"Hannah, get security on the line – tell them to stop her. She's not to leave the building under any circumstances."

"Yes sir."

He was already racing down the hall before Hannah's hand landed on her phone. He clicked shut his cell and dropped it into his pocket. Pausing briefly, he realized he'd just hung up on his sister, and then gave a mental shrug. Claudia would understand.

He eyed the stairs, then bypassed them and skidded to a stop in front of his private elevator. He'd never make it down thirty-seven flights of stairs before she left. The doors slid open and he stepped in, punching the button for the lobby. He paced restlessly in the small confines. _Dios mio, please let it be her. He didn't give a damn where she'd been, why she'd taken off on him like she had. Just please, please…let it be her._

Finally, the elevator jerked to a stop and the doors opened. He was met by the grim face of Cooper Barrett, his head of security.

"Where is she?" His breath heaved out of his chest in short static bursts, panic gripping him.

"I'm sorry Mr. Zacchara; the afternoon guard said he she got into a cab out front just as the call from Hannah came in."

Bitter disappointment filled him and he nodded in acknowledgement. "Gather all the security camera footage you have of her from the moment she stepped in until the minute she left for the past four days. Get me copies of the lobby sign-in sheets and track down the cab company she got into. There was also something about a flight – start searches for both LaGuardia and JFK. She said her name was Georgie Jones, I want everything there is to know about her."

"Everything?"

"All of it, including her current address. I'm guessing it's not in Manhattan, or even New York. I would suggest you try searching for her somewhere in Texas first."

"Yes sir, I'll have everything compiled for you within two weeks."

"I want it in three hours."

"Sir, with all due respect – there's no way I can have all that in three days, let alone in three hours."

John leveled a hard, uncompromising gaze at him. "Three hours, Barrett." He repeated flatly. "I want you to pull every man you have, if necessary. Call in every favor we're owed, just do it and do it now."

His security chief gave him a cool, assessing look then nodded sharply. "Yes sir. You can expect me and my men in your office in three hours with everything."

"Thank you." John scrubbed a hand over his jaw and pushed the button for the elevator. The doors opened quietly and he stepped inside, pressing the button to take him back to the top floor.

Could it really be over? Could he really be this close to finding what he'd spent more than six months searching so desperately for? He didn't want to get his hopes up, but this was the closest he'd been to finding her since she'd left him all those months ago.

"_The Sunshine is always brighter in Texas." _That had to be her, other than Claudia no one else could possibly know what that simple statement would mean to him. He stepped out as the doors slid open and wound his way down the long hall to his office. He nodded briefly to his visibly anxious assistant and shut his office door behind him.

He knew he should call Claudia back, she was probably sick with anticipation and worry. But the thought that this Georgie could be her - could be his Sunshine, his Mariah - that he could have been sitting mere feet from her for the past four days had nausea rolling through him. But if it was her – why the hell hadn't she just given Hannah the name Mariah? Did she not realize that it was the one name guaranteed to open any and every door to his life? He smiled ruefully and answered his own question - stubbornness. His pixie was damn stubborn, she didn't play by anybody else's rules but her own. It had been one of the things that had attracted him. One of the many.

He settled into his chair and swiveled to stare blankly out at the Manhattan skyline. _Why was she here, had she known he had been looking for her, that he had never stopped not from the moment she'd disappeared on him? _ He frowned. More importantly, why had she run from him in the first place?

"_The sunshine is always brighter in Texas." _He smiled softly at the memory. _Madre de Dios, _could she twist him in a knot. Had from the moment she'd fixed her beautiful blue eyes on him and given him a sassy little grin.

She'd been like no other woman he'd ever met before. She was gorgeous to be sure, with her golden mane of soft curls framing delicate features, dazzling blue eyes and a full mouth that begged to be kissed. Her heart-stopping delicate beauty and mouth-watering curves wrapped in a tiny frame had drawn second looks from every male that entered the diner where she worked. He'd been no different; he'd been awestruck from the first moment he'd laid eyes on her.

She'd been like some tempting pixie, a laughing grinning temptation in a tiny come-hither package. But her beauty and heady sexuality alone wouldn't have guaranteed his interest; he'd been surrounded by beautiful women all his life. With his name, his money and his looks – attracting beautiful women had never a problem for him. He didn't even need to put forth much effort, they came to him like flies to honey.

But there'd been something different about her from the moment they'd met. It wasn't just her looks, her sassy attitude or her blatant sex appeal. Maybe it was the way she'd come to his table, taking his order and coolly dismissing the advances of his friends.

_Arrogant, pampered rich boys slumming it in the little diner in Queens. _Her evaluation of them was plain to see on her face. She'd been right of course. But somehow seeing the assessing look sweep her face followed by the dismissive look of disdain, had made him itch to be separate from his friends in her eyes. To get her to see him as something different, something more.

She had deftly avoided the wandering hands of his friends, rolled her eyes at their pitiful attempts to impress her with boasting speeches about their cars and Manhattan penthouses and issued biting insults with a never-wavering smile. Her voice had been soft and lilting with a razor-sharp edge, she was sarcastic, snarky, witty and huffy and he'd fallen instantly in love.

So head over heels in fact, that he'd done the one thing he'd never had to bother with in his entire life. He pursued her. Relentlessly. It had taken nearly two weeks of showing up every day that she worked and flirting shamelessly before she finally caved. He smiled at the memory. She'd rolled her eyes and placed a delicate hand on her jean-clad hip. _"Okay my little trust fund stalker, pick me up at seven. You've got tonight to do your best to sweep me off my feet." _

Her expression had clearly stated her skepticism at him actually succeeding and he'd vowed to prove her wrong - that he could be more to her than the bored rich boy she called _Trust Fund. _He wanted her to see him, to see the man behind the Ferrari and four hundred dollar sunglasses. He was frantic for a chance to prove himself as someone worthy of her, someone she could fall for.

Instead of a limo and an expensive restaurant, they'd had a picnic in Central Park and he'd taken her ice skating. Turned out, she was a natural. Graceful and adorable, she'd glided seamlessly across the ice. He however, had not fared as well. He'd fallen flat on his ass actually. Several times. His clumsiness and ineptitude would have embarrassed him horribly, if not for the fact Mariah had lit up with laughter, her face glowing with amusement. She'd been so entertained by him, so relaxed that she'd let him kiss her for the first time right there on the ice wobbling on his skates and clutching to her for balance. As soon as her lips had softened beneath his and her arms had slipped around him, he'd vowed to make an ass of himself everyday if that was the reaction he could expect.

That one date had quickly led to spending nearly every available moment together. That first kiss had led to passionate lovemaking so intense; he'd realized that it wasn't that he didn't want to be without her - it was that he couldn't be. By their third date, he'd known he wanted to marry her. But not wanting to scare her off with his intensity, he'd never told her.

Now, he wonders if it would have made a difference. What if she really thought he was just some spoiled rich boy only looking for a summer fling on the wrong side of the tracks before returning to the real world? Maybe he should have confessed immediately that _she was _his reality, his world - then maybe she'd still be there with him, maybe he wouldn't have spent all these months without her.

Shaking off his questions, he pulled out his cell phone and stared at it. He should call Claudia but he was reluctant to do so until he had something to tell her. Other than someone by the name of Georgie Jones had shown up and had some connection to his Mariah, he really didn't know anything. And she'd already heard that much.

He couldn't really be upset if this Georgie person turned out to be his Mariah. It's not like he'd been truthful with his name either. She'd been so scornful of _the rich kids slumming it_; he'd been terrified the well-known Zacchara name would scare her off. After that first day, he'd even left his beloved Ferrari at home and bought himself a Volvo in an attempt to impress her. And she'd only known him as Johnny Escobedo, not John Zacchara. Escobedo had been his mother's maiden name.

Plus if she too had been using an assumed name, it would explain why dozens of investigators had hit dead end after dead end. He grinned suddenly, it would be just like his head-strong little pixie to thwart all attempts to find her and just show up on her own. At that thought, hope unfurled completely in his chest and spread warmth through his body. _Madre de Dios, _but he wanted it to be her! He _needed_ it to be her, every day without her, every night spent without her – was slowly killing him.

Sure, he spent time with his sister, buried himself in work and drove his company to higher success every day. But beyond that, he'd spent the past six months in a vacuum. Existing but not really living, he brushed off every female that crossed his path. He'd had no choice – none of them were his Mariah. And now, there was a chance that she'd found him. _Dios mio_, but he prayed it was true!

The months without her, had not caused her memory to fade but to gain in strength. Had proven unequivocally that there was no other woman for him, that no other love existed for him but the one they'd shared. He had been so sure those weeks they'd spent together that she was just as in love with him.

And then, when he finally got the courage to tell her everything – his name, his family, about his father, what he'd actually been doing during his days while she'd been working in the diner and most of all, that once she'd named the date and time, he was marrying her – it had been too late, she'd disappeared.

No notice to the diner, her apartment cleaned out and no forwarding address. Along with her secrets, she'd taken his heart and hope for a future, for a family. He wouldn't have any of those without her. He was a Zacchara, and when they gave away their heart it was for good. Nobody but his Mariah would ever stand a chance, no woman but she would ever bear his name, his children.

A knock sounded, shaking him out of his musings. "Come in."

Cooper Barrett strode in, his face grim.

"Barrett – that was quick. What do you have for me?"

The other man's lips thinned, his expression bleak. "I think we found her." He paused, clearly reluctant to continue. John stared at him until the security chief blew out a harsh breath.

"I'm sorry Mr. Zacchara, it's not good news."


End file.
